Fucked Ch. 04: Housemates Pt. 01

Benz whinnied.

This time there was a growing tent between her thighs aiming straight at his face.

The woman winked.

Whatever Benz was thinking did not quite reach his face through the shock as he blinked, trying to understand for a moment if he was just imagining it, but there was no mistaking the now raging tent trying to split her shorts down the middle, the girl chuntering as she forced her thighs closed, open, closed, and open again, taking a lot longer to closer her legs than to open them.

It was a cock bulge.

Benz had forgotten what he was saying, forgotten everything rattling around in his head. Statistics, video plans, editing decisions, general incompetence.... Everything fell away from that woman staring into his soul, huge plump lips and long fake lashes as immovable as boulders as she continued to pump, and pump, and pump.

Her abs looked like they were made of steel, a trickle of sweat making its way between the plates, her definition obscene.

"Uh... what..."

The boys began to realise as they stared around them, with growing trepidation; It wasn't just the girl watching Benz. Every single lady here was similarly packing in their crotch department.

The raven-haired woman bent over had shifted her legs wide so that her leggings now had a shotgun running down one inside leg; the young girl in yellow doing lunges had turned, revealing a kettle-bell bulge in the centre of her shorts.

One by one every woman in the gym showed in some way that, in no uncertain terms, they were packing prodigious heat. In response, every single man in the room began to sweat like the temperature had been ramped up to cauldron-hot.

"Holy shit...." murmured Duppie.

Dom was having a different sort of sensation, his eyes glued to a woman in the corner who was doing some sort of yoga exercise, curling her spine on all fours, first up, then down. Her rather cold features were creased into a look of deep concentration, a light sheen of sweat running down to lips that he had come to know well over the past few nights, and her pink workout gear looked like it had packed in her incredible curves with viscous disregard for how much skin was still on show.

Jessica.

Adrenaline kicked in as mind-numbing lust threatened to overtake him, his first instinct to sprint towards her, but he straightened himself, failing to wrench his gaze away as she uncurved her spine, raised her knees and elbows in tandem,, her torso and legs as straight as a bar of iron, juicy ass up in the air, just crying out to be kissed.

Dom's mouth started watering, because he knew... none of these girls compared to Jessica. At least, not in his mind. A memory of the warmth and cosiness of her curvaceous body pumping up against his made him shiver in delight, the scent of her sweat almost tangible in the air.

Don't look or you'll give yourself a hard-on...'

He could already fell the heat building in his gut.

'God don't get hard...'

Who knows what the guys would be willing to upload for views?

Stu the camera-man managed to un-freeze, tapping Benz gently on the shoulder.

"D... did you want me to record this?"

Benz jolted, and then glowered.

"O.... o-of course you fucking idiot, do you think our audience isn't going to be interested in a bunch of girls with boners?!?"

Stu shrugged and nodded to Frankie, the other cameraman, and then Benz adjusted his face to be overly happy again, waiting for Stu to give him the all clear. It was quite impressive how easily he slipped back in presenting mode.

*three, two, one...*

"Alright guys, HHHEEeerrree we are! Looks like we're out looking for a gym bunny.... I think Jaz's... FRIEND... should be nearby!"

Just as Jaz was about to start sweating again a shadow fell across them. All eyes and lenses swept up to see Zalta looming over them, a reproachful look on her face. Stu lowered his camera, lip wobbling as she gave him a single finger wag.

"Hey boys, can I help you?"

Most were speechless. Benz managed to cobble something together.

"Ah YES.... We're ah... we're um... looking for his... hat."

It seemed quite stupid, but as soon as he pointed to Jaz, Zalta's body language changed completely, her arms unfolding, turning to him with her chest coming forwards confidently, tone softer.

"Hey cutie..."

Jaz looked like he simultaneously wanted to run into her arms, out of the window and into a brick wall at the same time, managing a jerky wave of his hand.

Benz looked between Jaz and the fitness model/iron giant hybrid in confusion and growing understanding.

"No... you... and her.....?"

Jaz looked like he might have forgotten to bring his liver, his face going yellow.

"Well... Umm..."

Benz smirked.

"Goodness Jaz..... I wouldn't have thought she was your type..."

Zalta eyed the boys with a sharp gaze, taking in the cameras and the way Benz was eyeing Jaz up like he was about to give him a wedgie and take his lunch money.

Her tone was commanding, and cut through the noise.

"No, we never did anything sexual, if that's what you're wondering."

Benz licked his teeth, deflated slightly at his fun being cut short, but un-scrunched his nose quickly before turning on the charm.

"Haha.. of course I wouldn't pry... Your private lives are your private lives...."

Jaz gave Zalta a warm smile, and Zalta winked at him, maintaining her dismissive air towards Benz.

"Correct."

Benz gestured around at the ladies in a variety of open poses, although none of them acknowledged the boys' presence, busy in intense workouts or firing weights into the air with practiced ease.

"What exactly is this establishment?""

"It's a gym... seems you boys have yet to visit one."

Benz went bright red as she looked them up and down with a smirk.

"Haha.... of course, we're too busy ah... having sex and whatnot..."

"...Sure."

Even Benz himself cringed at the lame joke. Dom couldn't help thinking Benz seemed resoundingly rattled by Zalta.

"... but this gym seems.. different."

Zalta seemed somewhat proud when she responded.

"Well... it's a space where we can work out in without bothering you fine young men with our ah... extras, you know?.... Let it all.. hang out, so to speak..."

"Right..."

Benz's eyes lit up, flickering to the camera just to confirm that the red light was indeed on.

".. that's super interesting.. and why do you all have this ah... extra equipment...."

He made sure to give an obvious smile to the guys so that they either tittered back on command, or pretended to stifle laughs.

The woman smirked.

"I don't know... same way the Lord above forgot to give you boys any, judging by the lack of any notable packages down there..."

She gestured to his crotch and Benz froze, and the boys this time all sniggered for real.

"E-excuse me?"

She grinned, nodding towards his crotch again.

"Maybe I was mistaken... But I don't see anything in those pants... Tell me, how much action does it get between your thumb and forefinger?"

Benz went bright red, a nerve most certainly touched, and his next comment was accompanied by a light spray of spittle.

"Well, well... I didn't realise that this gym was just full of dick-swinging freaks!"

The guys all froze, eyes wide. Benz rarely had an outburst to someone outside the crew before.

Zalta pursed her lips into a mocking pout, unfazed.

"Oooh did I offend the little boy and his baby pee-pee?"

Benz looked like a balloon about to pop, his face bright red, but as he was about to retort with vitriol Zalta waved his protests aside, taking on a calming tone.

"Relax there big boy, look, how's this for a peace offering..."

She leant her elbow on him, making his face curl into one of disgust, and gestured to the gym.

".. I'll let you film in our gym, and let your rather ah.... Intrusive cameramen...."

She gestured to Frankie who was pointing a camera past them at one of the girls mid-squat, lowering in time with her to catch the full pump of her glutes in the ludicrously tight lycra leggings.

"... You advertise our gym in your video..... and in return you boys will let me and my girls here give you each a personal training session. Free of charge, to make up for me being so mean... Hell I'll even bring Jaz his hat by the end of today if he really needs it that badly."

Benz dampened the unsavoury look on his face. In business terms it was a no-brainer... The chance to shoot an almost certainly viral video with these super-hot freaks, to humiliate Jaz... It was all the content he needed. People loved seeing juicy secrets on the internet.....

Twenty million views, easy.

He pulled himself from under her elbow, dusting his shoulder before motioning for the cameras to roll once more.

"Would you be able to call these women in?"

Zalta smirked, and folded her arms. "It's your show."

Benz tried not to let the frustration show on his face, taking in a deep breath.

"Okay then.... if you gather your ah... ladies... and we can start?"

***

"WELCOME guys and girls, to DELTA gym!"

The boys all cheered, pretending to do stretches or give grousing faces to the camera as they posed their weedy biceps and stringy muscles, Jaz the only one with any definition worth flexing for.

"With me we have our Rowdy Boyz.... and here on our left we have... The DELTA GYM LADIES!"

The camera panned to a collection of women so fit and toned they looked like an Olympic volleyball team, tall with heavily toned muscles and bulging quads everywhere. Each girl seemed to have something that stood out. Zalta's height, almost a head above the rest, Clem with her young, slim body but pert butt, Jessica with her prodigious cleavage and Pasha, the raven-haired woman with razor-sharp cheeks and a look that could freeze a man at forty paces. As well as this, the armour-plated abs of the black woman were on full display as she stood as close as possible to Benz, who looked even smaller in her shadow.

Zalta eyed Jaz with pupils that would have glowed red if they could, almost slavering from her jowls as she looked him up and down, and he gave a flushed smile out of the corner of his mouth, wary of the cameras, and Dom's fingers couldn't stop fidgeting as Jessica watched him with an inscrutable expression that he knew hid a mountain of affection underneath.

"... They've happily agreed to help us with this video by letting us into their private gym!"

The girls' smiles became less natural as the camera panned down to their crotches, but the girls had made sure that their 'assets' were well tucked away before the filming had started, and the camera quickly moved on.

"Assholes," Jessica growled under her breath to Zalta, who smirked.

Her cock ached fiercely being taped underneath her, but hopefully, the amount of boy-meat for the girls would more than make up for it.

"We've tracked Jaz's hat down to one of these fine ladies, but which one??! Well, they've agreed to tell us... if we each agree to a personal training sessions with one of them... Are you guys ready??!"

The girls smiled and nodded.

"I hope you're ready!" said Zalta.

"We were BORN ready," Benz grinned.

They laughed for a few seconds.

"AND CUT!"

He clicked his fingers and motioned Stu and Frankie to heft the cameras with them, along with Fozzie who had only just caught up with them.

"Guys, get your personal cams out... Frankie and Stu, hover around... and as for the ladies..."

He smiled at the girls who all cast a stern gaze in his direction.

"... Well, I guess Jaz can go with his... friend."

"Ah shame... Guess I get the hot one" sighed Zalta which provoked a few titters from both parties, smirking at Jaz, who seemed excited and scared in equal measure, docile like a puppy before he was led away.

Benz watched them go with a nasty look, before turning to the rest of the ladies.

"... And I'll go wiiiiiith....

He pointed at Jessica.

"....you."

Something in Dom's temple pulsed.

Jessica didn't move a muscle.

"No."

Benz turned on the charm, "look, for the video let's-"

Jessica replied with a harsh enough tone that he paused mid-sentence.

"I said no."

She followed up by walking to Dom and snaring him by the collar, before pulling him unceremoniously away from the group.

"Come."

He couldn't help a tiny smile up at her as he was led away.

"..."

"I think she likes him," Duppie chuckled, and the rest joined in. He hadn't yet realised the cold-faced woman was watching him like a hawk, the barest flicker of her upper lip hinting at mirth.

Benz, who didn't like being out of control, looked like he was going to say something spiteful, but managed to reign it in, taking a deep breath in through his nose before turning to the rest of the women. The black woman slowly slipped a studded tongue out of her mouth, and made a circle across her lips, leaving them wet. Her nostrils flared, bringing his attention to the silver-nose ring, delicate and at odds with her lustful gaze.

Benz felt a chill inhabit his body. This woman gave off a sense of danger he was quite unfamiliar with, and almost certainly unprepared for. He broke eye contact quickly, fidgeting with his shirt, instead focusing his attention on the cold-faced woman.

"Alright then.... how about y-"

The cold-faced woman grabbed Duppie so fast he barely had time to say "Oh!" before he was being manhandled almost violently towards the treadmills.

"-ou..."

Benz watched them go with a somewhat lost expression, his arms falling to his sides.

"Well..."

The bruising black woman stepped a little closer.

He bristled, the colour leaving his face.

"I'I think I'll go with-"

He looked over at the younger girl who smirked and jumped straight into Mark's arms, and Mark staggered back, falling to the mat with her on top of him.

"Wooo! Floor exercises already?" she asked with a cheeky grin, and Mark started laughing with her, although he let out a small wheeze as her hand snaked down and openly grabbed between his legs.

"OOhhf!"

Benz looked at the pair with incredulity, then at the camera man who was zooming in on the hand openly grabbing Mark's crotch, kneading at the small, lumpy collection of objects inside Mark's trackie bottoms that was obviously his cock and balls.

"Stu, are you getting thi-"

Something came into contact with his side, and he looked sideways, and then up into the face of the black woman standing far too intimately in his personal space. She looked ravenous. He could feel the heat from her rock-hard abs as they pressed against his arm, the two-piece gym-gear leaving open midriff where her sweat could rub against his skin.

"Name's Jewell. What's your name boy?"

"U-uh... that's a little friendly of you!" he said in a charming, internet-personality vlogger voice, although it was far higher pitched than usual. "Maybe you need a lesson in manners!"

"OH trust me, I'm reaaal friendly," she said in a hoarse voice that sounded like she ate gravel every day for fun, ".... now, I ain't gonna ask again... What's your name?"

"B-benz!..... You probably know me, leader of the Rowdy Bo-"

A huge, calloused hand touched his bicep, not hard, just enough to squeeze the meagre amount of muscle there.

".... Leader huh?"

Benz felt his extremities go numb, the winning smile on his face faltering towards dislike and outright fear.

"Ah... Yup! Now, I reckon we should start on the b-"

She grabbed and pulled him before he had finished his sentence.

"-icycles...?!"

His face twisted between fear and disdain as he was pulled towards the squat rack, Stu following and getting as close to her prodigiously toned ass as possible, panning up to the back muscles rippling like a hive of small creatures all working together to shift her mighty frame.

She looked like a woman who lived in the gym, a power-lifter in all senses of the word, glutes rippling with each step as the thick muscles in each huge butt-cheek contorted and released.

Benz whimpered as he was manhandled away from everyone else towards the squat rack tucked into the corner, staring at the ass leading him on like a siren's call.

Each woman and boy split off to their respective sections of the gym, the cameramen doing their best to follow the action.

***

Duppie couldn't believe his luck.

A super-hot girl was basically wrestling him towards the treadmills, her red-glossed nails just as perfectly cut as the rest of her, although there was nothing dainty about the strong hand clamped around his wrist, or the one shoving his lower back.

Duppie wasn't short by any means, the woman matching his height of 6'1, but she dwarfed him in attitude, her eyes regarding him with a coldness that couldn't dim the attraction he felt towards her.

He'd never been intimate with a girl with fake lips.... or such obviously fake breasts.

He checked his mic again, whilst eyeing her melons and crotch, but her bulge was tucked away somewhere. It had been pretty big from what he remembered from earlier.... Not a dealbreaker though, he thought to himself.

Duppie prided himself on being rather more accepting of differing sexualities, unlike some of the other members of the team who were a little stuck in the noughties with their humour.

A treadmill was presented to him.

"On."

Obediently he stepped on and attached his go-pro camera to the side whilst wondering if he was straight, bi, gay, or none of the above for being attracted to this woman who had certainly been packing heat less than ten minutes ago. He glanced back at the sleek black hair, killer body and chest bazookas which seemed to magically remain upright in spite of any pesky theoretical laws of gravity. Her jaw looked surgically straight, cheeks sharp.

There was nothing in his head telling him no.

"So... what's your name?"

"Pasha."

"I'm Duppie.... Guess you're gonna put me through my paces huh!"

She didn't respond and pressed a button that made the conveyer belt start to move.

"Walk."

As he started to walk, Frankie nearby pointed a lens in their direction, and he tried to push into his 'vlogger persona'.

Anything for views.

"What are we doing then baaaabe? Reckon you could beat me in a race?"

She rolled her eyes.

"No, we warm up."

Her accent was sharp; Eastern European, with no warmth at all.

"Oh right! Well... of course... shame we aren't racing... I reckon I'd beat ya!"

A studious, intense look appeared on her face.

"You like beating?"

...Content, curiosity and heated urges dictated his answer.

"Urm... Yeah!"

Her hand flew to his ass, and a nasty raw burning sensation ripped through his ass cheek as she spanked him so hard he was nearly sent through the window overlooking the street.

*SMACK*

"OWW!"

"You like it when I beat you?"

His voice had gone embarrassingly high-pitched for a moment as he almost fell of the treadmill, recovering his balance, face red.

"A-actually.. no..!"

Frankie weaved the camera close to them as Duppie adjusted, flustered.

"..I didn't give you permission to moles-"

Pasha grabbed Duppie's throat, and he clucked as she dragged him off of the treadmill and pushed him up hard against the window overlooking the street and building opposite, rows of people in offices hunched over computers, switched off to the world around them.

"HLK-... glhh-!"

"I don't need permission to fuck you like a dog, whore-slut."

The cameraman temporarily took his eye from the lens, a worried look on his face as the woman shoved her thigh straight between Duppie's, making the man gasp.

"You want to ride me?" she spat; what looked like a furious demon leering under the botoxed mask that was her spotless, perfect white face.